


Desire

by Sarah_M



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasizing, Season/Series 06, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-05 20:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_M/pseuds/Sarah_M
Summary: Desire: a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen.





	1. Open Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short, shamefully plot-less, smuttish fic that came to me at an opportune/inopportune moment.
> 
> Unbeated. Sorry for the errors that are likely floating around in there. Pretend I caught them? Ta.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not often he watches her like this. 
> 
> Jack O’Neill is not proud to say that he's maybe had a little too much to drink tonight. That coupled with the fact that this is one of those few times where Samantha Carter has chosen to wear black jeans that are a little tight and a red top that’s a little low, means his libido is quickly heating up with his lack of sobriety.

It’s not often he watches her like this.  

Jack O’Neill is not proud to say that he's maybe had a little too much to drink tonight. That coupled with the fact that this is one of those few times where Samantha Carter has chosen to wear black jeans that are a little tight and a red top that’s a little low, means his libido is quickly heating up with his lack of sobriety.  

They are supposed to be showing Jonas a culturally enriching night out. Teal’c wants to introduce him to the finer points of human social interactions and apparently _O'Malleys_ is the place to do that. Honestly, he’s surprised no one has recognized them and asked them to kindly leave given the way things went the last time they were here. Especially since Carter’s decided tonight is the right night for hustling the locals at pool again. And damn if she doesn’t look sexy as hell doing it.  

He doesn’t mind holding the booth for them all while they play, sitting alone with his beer and her drink while she slyly takes a few fake shit shots to lure in her prey. Usually there would be a big part of him that would enjoy watching her do this – stripping handsome young men's egos away and wiping the floor with what’s left. But this time the closer to the bottom of his glass he gets the more he finds her slightly flirtatious behavior irksome. The way she openly smiles in that charming way she does. The way her hips sway and as she drags her hand along the length of the pool table, subtly seductive. Don’t even get him started on the way she chalks the tip of the cue before she racks the balls. She plays dirty – even if she would absolutely never admit to it.  

Thankfully she cleans up quickly. It makes him irrationally happy because he doesn’t want to watch her act that way for anyone but him. The thought alone is a big flashing warning sign that tells him he should slow down and stick to water now. Of course, then she chooses to buy them a few shots of something strong with her winnings. And he’s not going to say no to whatever she’s offering him - taking one of the small glasses carefully as she drops them off to their table. 

“Are you finished torturing the locals Carter?” He knocks back half of the liquor, relishing the sharp burn in his throat and the instant warmth that spreads in his stomach. Yeah, because _that’s_ what he needs; to feel hotter.  

“Yes actually. Jonas thinks he’s got it all worked out now and is ready to take a chance at it. And he’s not technically a local,” she grins with a shrug. Her eyes sparkle as she smirks around her glass and takes a drink for herself. 

“Fun,” he says dryly, unable to meet her with the same enthusiasm. Now he has to watch her sass Jonas. Great.  

“You’re not enjoying yourself Colonel?” she frowns slightly, her eyebrows pinching together at his response. 

“Sure I am. Steak, drinks and good company. What’s not to enjoy. By all means - have at it,” he tries harder this time, hoping his tone or eyes won't give away his dark mood and borderline unwelcome arousal. 

She gives him a curious look in return, “I’m going to make a swift fifty and then I’ll come back.” 

“You know I gave him my cash right?” 

“Then I guess I’m okay with taking your money too sir,” she gives him the same flirtatious full-Carter-smile she’s been using all night and then saunters away. He wonders if she is even aware of the kind of aura that she’s openly carrying around her tonight. Maybe she’s had too much to drink as well.  

The way she leans over the pool table to break is utterly ludicrous and he’s gifted with a fine view of her ass. It has his mind wandering instantly to other circumstances he could have her bending over that way. Crap. Apparently his thought train isn’t steaming off in a direction that goes anywhere good – or more accurately; everywhere good but not anywhere decent. Although, all he has these days is his thoughts and his right hand. And tonight does seem to be providing him with a little extra to add to his regular collection of fantasy material. 

Still watching her six in a way that the air force definitely didn't have mind, he wonders just how much she’d like it that way – bent over his bed with him behind her. Fucking into her hot, wet center, hard and fast. Her back curved gloriously while he presses her down firmly into mattress with a hand between her shoulder blades. Fingers slipping between her slick folds teasing her clit. Holding his own release back until that moment that her throaty moans become pitched cries of pleasure. Is that a position that would get her toes to curl? 

Something tells him she’d like it a little rough and a little dirty. Not that he’s not a gentleman – he is certain he is. There's no doubt that they’d pull off sweet and sensual when the time is right and he’d get off on that no problem - making love any which way with her would be perfect. But surely she doesn't have a soft spot for the lunatic fringe because it means she's likely to get her sex vanilla flavored.  

Her eyes catch his for a moment. Maybe it’s just him and the light buzz he’s got going on, but he could swear her lips quirk up ever so slightly at him as she leans down for her shot - squarely in line with him - presenting him with an eyeful of her cleavage beneath her top. She sinks two balls, drawing a moan from Jonas and a smirk from her. Then she’s moving again, casually lowering herself so her eye line is closer to the table, studying the new setup she’s about to tackle. The way her hand slides down the cue as she does has him hardening in his pants. 

She definitely deserves better than her CO getting worked up ogling her from behind a beer. He’s going to stop. He is. Or at least he was going to until her tongue slipped over her lips in concentration. Now only thing he can think about is how badly he’d loved to see her on her knees for him.  

It’s not a new thought - it’s a go to fantasy - but he’s never once allowed himself to think about it in her presence. Usually he’s alone in his bed or in the shower when he draws up images of her that way. He’s the first to admit that it’s a hell of a lot more alluring watching the sparkle in her eyes right now while he imagines it. Her soft pink lips wrapped around his length. Those big blue eyes peering up at him from under her eyelashes. His fingers tangling in her hair while she gets him off with her clever tongue and warm mouth. Would she willingly swallow down what he has to offer her when he comes?  

He’d love to taste her in return. God, what he wouldn't give to spend a generous amount of time between her legs. It’d be privilege to have her come undone against his mouth. Her fingers twisting in his hair while he teases her bundle of nerves with his tongue. His fingers stroking and curling up methodically inside her heat. One arm over her hips to hold her down as she bucks and writhes at the feel of him. How wanton would she be for him that way?           

Fuck. This is so not the place to be thinking about this.  

After she has successfully humiliated Jonas and pocketed his own money for herself, she makes her way back over to him like she promised. Now would be a very good time for his pants to get a little less tight. Especially since it’s getting late and chances are high that he’s going to need to stand up soon to get a cab. 

She leans her hip against the table right by his side and picks up her drink, toying with the straw in her glass. There’s a noticeable glint in her eyes as she stares at him intensely in silence.  

“You know, sometimes you’re hard to read and I have no idea what it is your thinking,” she says lowly, her gaze suddenly distracted by the beverage she’s absently stirring in her hands. Keeping his features neutral, attempting to mask the moody look he’s been shooting her way most of the night, he watches her swirling at the liquid with her straw. Her eyes lift again to meet his, looking down at him seriously. “And then there are the other times, when I know exactly what you’re thinking,” the words leave her mouth in a smoky tone that sends more blood rushing directly south. “Like right now,” she adds pointedly. 

He raises his eyebrows at her for a brief moment. His schooled expression slipping to make way for the darkness in his eyes and a warning throaty voice. “You don’t know what I’m thinking Carter." 

“Yes. I do.”  Slowly she lifts her drink and takes her straw in her mouth for a drink, in a subtly suggestive way that leaves no room for error. Fuck. His lips part watching her – completely surprised and turned on at the same time. “And the answers to your questions are; _yes it is_ , _yes I would_ , and _I’d love every minute of it_.” 

Well then. Maybe she does know how to read him.  

Suddenly it occurs to him that perhaps the private fantasies he’s been having are a lot less of his choosing and a hell of a lot more of hers. He swallows hard at the thought; her intentionally tempting him that way. “Carter…” 

“If I’m wrong you won’t have a problem walking over to the bar to buying me another drink - with the money I won from you.” Her fingers deftly move to pull the folded-up cash from the front of her jeans, flashing the barest amount of tantalizing soft skin at her hip as her shirt lifts a little to access her pocket.  

He doesn’t answer her, because he can’t do what she’s asking. There’s a really obvious outline in front of his pants that she shouldn’t be able to see but clearly knows all about. Instead he draws in a slow deep breath, exhaling it heavily as they maintain eye contact.   

“No?” she hums, pressing her lips together, satisfied with his lack of response. Then she reaches for his half drunken shot of liquor and finishes it for him. “Thought so.”  

His whole body stiffens at the sight of her - muscles in his neck tensing as her lips intentionally touch at the same place on the glass his had been. She’s eye fucking him. He wasn't entirely sure that was an actual thing, but he is now because there is no doubt that’s what she’s doing.  

“You shouldn’t look at me like that unless you’re planning on doing something about it Jack.” 

Sweet mother of mercy, if only her words sounded more like a shutdown instead of an open invitation.  

“Noted.” 

She breaks their stare and turns to head back to Jonas and Teal’c - who are deeply distracted with the jukebox and thankfully not the overt sexual tension that is steaming around them right now.  

“Sam,” he calls after her and she glances back at him. “When I do something about it, it won’t be when we’ve had too much to drink.” 

A smile plays on her lips, her eyes dancing at him. “Noted.”

And it’s still an invitation - just one that’s for another, soberer time.

  



	2. Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had made a very intentional, calculated decision to wear the same dark, tight-fitting jeans that she’d tempted him with a year ago. She was hoping to draw his attention. It worked. The way his eyes had travelled over her body and then back to meet hers was almost unnerving. There’s a big difference between tumbling their way towards a drunken flirtation and diving straight in. It may have been an overly confident assumption that he would willfully repeat it. Especially before a single sip of anything they might choose to blame has been consumed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you times a million to the amazing Sharim28 for taking time to beta this - you're _magic_.
> 
> For anyone bookmarking this or keeping an eye out, I'm changing the work title from 'Open Invitation' to 'Desire' - 'Open Invitation' will become the chapter one title instead. Sorry! Thanks for sticking with me!

Sam is trying to be as supportive as possible while Daniel stumbles through recalling his scattered memories post-ascension – they all are. So when he remembered the time he was caught up in his first and only bar brawl and asked if they could all go there again, there wasn’t much the team could do other than oblige. Which is fine, really - she’s got some pretty fond memories of this place herself. Though now that she’s back at _O’Malleys_ , conveniently sitting directly across from the Colonel, it’s incredibly difficult to think of anything other than the last time they were here. 

He must be thinking the same thing - he has to be. Because she had made a very intentional, calculated decision to wear the same dark, tight-fitting jeans that she’d tempted him with a year ago. She was hoping to draw his attention. It worked. The way his eyes had travelled over her body and then back to meet hers was almost unnerving. There’s a big difference between tumbling their way towards a drunken flirtation and diving straight in. It may have been an overly confident assumption that he would willfully repeat it. Especially before a single sip of anything they might choose to blame has been consumed. 

She’ll admit it was a huge power trip for her last time; being able to have that kind of control over him without even touching him. Earlier in the evening, she had spent a truly ridiculous amount of time at home staring down her jeans laid out on her bed; considering whether or not it would be wise to encourage a repeat performance. But a longing to feel wanted had won out, and more specifically, a longing to feel wanted _by him_. Wanting the reassurance that she is still able to get him worked up for her. Convincing herself that she can and will be wholly satisfied with the knowledge that she can still tempt him. That it will be enough. And she will absolutely not read into what it might mean for her self-esteem that she desperately feels the need to do this to him tonight. 

Of course, tonight of all nights she just cannot get a read on him, and it’s starting to worry her a little that he really might not be so impressed by her boldness. That doesn’t stop her from watching him as she plays with her straw, toying absently with the ice left over at the bottom of her glass. Watching the way he drinks his beer; his parted lips as he takes a swig and his tongue as it licks over them afterwards. 

It would be a lie to say that she hasn’t thought an awful lot about what kind of skill set he has with those two particular assets. How he might use them to tease her body into becoming ready and willing for him. Dragging his lips and tongue across every inch of her skin, slowly discovering the extra sensitive places on her neck that will undoubtedly make her breath hitch. Is he the kind of man that would want to mark her there; to leave her with a visible reminder that he’d successfully learned her - had her - made her his?

Watching his lips move as he speaks to Daniel and Teal’c, she realizes that she has absolutely no idea what they are saying. God, she should be paying more attention instead of fantasizing about him. Really though, how could she possibly concentrate on anything when she’s watching his long, clever fingers cradle the neck of his beer bottle or carefully pick at the edge of the label? 

It’s the ultimate distraction for her; his hands - his fingers. How would they would feel against her flushed skin if he were allowed to explore her? A palm at her breast, rolling a nipple between those perfect fingers, shooting desire straight to her center. Two fingers moving inside her heat, stroking rhythmically at the place that will have her muscles clenching with delight. His head between her legs, getting her off with his mouth. Delivering long languid licks against her sex. His tongue swirling unrelenting circles at her clit between perfect deliberate sucks. Her hands messing his hair, gripping it tightly in her fingers as she keens against him. 

Desire pools between her thighs at the thought, and pressing them together is all she can do to relieve the ache there. This is turning out to be more of a torture for her than it is for him. Other than that first tense look, he seems completely oblivious to her. She’d even made a show of drinking with her straw suggestively like last time - nothing. So much for her being able to tempt him - not that she’s has ever really considered herself that good at any of _this_ in the first place. Maybe she’s just better at it when her inhibitions are lowered? She should get a drink… or give up on this half-baked plan; one or the other.

“Well I’m not sure myself, but I bet Carter would be able to tell you.” His voice breaks through her reverie and three set of eyes look to her for an answer to a question she most certainly did not hear. Great.

“Uh, I’ll think about that sir… while I go order myself a drink,” she answers carefully, slowly standing. Perfect. Now all she needs to do is come up with a vague answer that would suit any question that could ever possibly be asked.

Waiting her turn to be served at the bustling bar, she squirms a little, hoping to shift a fraction more against the seam of jeans. A little relief when she walks back to their table would be welcome. How did she manage to be the one worked up like this? It was supposed to be him. 

“What are you ordering?” The Colonel murmurs so close to her ear that she can feel the tickle of his breath. The warmth of his body behind her would startle her if he hadn’t been careful to announce his presence with his words first. Lucky really, since she would have done something far from passive if it was a stranger in her personal space. 

“A martini,” she replies, hoping her response comes out as evenly as she’d like it to. 

“So you can answer a simple question then? Good to know. I was beginning to think you might be a little… distracted,” the amusement is clear in his low voice as he brushes up against her. 

Okay, maybe he’s been taking more notice of her than she’d originally thought. 

A rush of excitement surges through her veins at his deliberate contact - provoking her - and it spreads to all the right places. It’s only a fraction of what she really wants to feel from him and yet it is still so unbelievably rousing. 

What would it be like to have him pressed up behind her fully; trapping her firmly in place? His fingers gripping at her bare hips as he slides his length through her ready sex, nudging against her bundle of nerves and slicking himself with her desire. Teasing her entrance with his hardness before he pushes himself into her. Filling and stretching her delightfully. Soft groans of satisfaction leaving his lips and hers as she meets each welcome thrust. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she tries innocently. The strain in her voice is utterly obvious - no one is buying that, not even her.

“Of course not,” he smirks, shifting to stand to her side, still crowding her. One of the bar staff catches her eye, but before she can get out her order he beats her to it. “She’ll have a martini; dirty. Thank you.” He pays for her drink and then turns back to her; his eyes are filled with mirth. “That’s how you like it right?”

A chuckle leaves her lips at the unmistakable innuendo. Oh boy. She’s in trouble - the really good kind. 

“Depends what I’m in the mood for.” Butterflies let loose in her stomach, fluttering madly at the look he gives her. He definitely likes her answer.

“Do you want to play a game?”

She’s pretty sure they’re already playing one.

“What kind of game?”

“The kind you have a flare for.” With a grin he gestures over to the pool table.

Oh, that kind of game. “Is there an incentive?”

He smirks at her again, clearly enjoying where this is at - or where it’s going. “Would you like there to be one?”

“Well we already know I’m happy to take your money. What else can you give me?” Okay, that was brave for a Sam Carter that’s still entirely sober.

“I have plenty to give you Carter,” he replies gravelly. “Limited only by circumstance.” 

Holy Hannah. That’s honest. Glancing at her drink as it’s placed in front of her, she carefully picks it up to take a much-needed sip and holds his gaze. So, the real question is; how far are they willing to take this? “I think I’ll decide on my prize after I win.”

“ _If_ you win.”

“Please,” she adds skeptically with a pointed look. 

Besides, either way it sounds like she’s going to win.

They play; both pool and some other unnamed game they’re toying with that’s far more sexual in nature. 

Teal’c and Daniel stay at the table wrapped up in their own conversation, only glancing over every now and then. Both totally unaware of the suggestive hand movements, overt leaning and the ever-increasing amount of touches between them. She wins their pool game - of course - despite his genuine best efforts. And by the time their evening is wrapping up with goodbyes, she’s exceptionally flustered. She’s pretty sure that means he’s winning that _other_ game. There are some perks to being woman though - at least he has no idea what state her underwear is in when he offers to walk her to her car. 

The low lighting outside adds another unexplainable layer of appeal to his appearance – as if his ruffled hair and boyish smile wasn’t enough. They both idle needlessly at her car and she’s unsure of what actually comes next. She can tell he’s positively itching to say something. Unlike last time though, they’ve had all of one drink, so anything they say or do tonight is entirely them. No excuses.

Finally, he makes a call for them both and slowly starts reducing the space between them. “You know… the last time we were here you were not at all shy about leaving me in an uncomfortable state. I’m enjoying evening the score having you this way.”

She arches a brow at him impishly. “What makes you think I’m aroused?

Then his hands are on the small of her waist, urging her backwards until she is flush with the side of her car. His alluring brown eyes lock with hers as he oh-so-slowly presses up against her with an undeniably sexual intent. “You don’t think I know when you’re turned on Carter?”

God – he feels incredible and he’s giving her a lot more than she had actually expected. Her whole body is humming for him, making it difficult to remember why breaking the rules would be such a bad idea. And she is dangerously curious to know what else he might do. Swallowing hard she shakes her head imperceptibly, daring him to disagree. 

“Your eyes change for a start,” he murmurs against the shell of her ear. A fresh jolt of desire hits her the moment he touches her there; brushing his nose and lips lightly over her sensitive skin. “You flush too. From here,” the backs of his fingers graze the side of her neck, and begin to slowly slide enticingly downwards, trailing a hot line from behind her ear to the curve at the top of her breasts, “to here.” 

Her lips part to make way for a series of little puffs of breath, followed quickly by an undignified whimper. His hand moves lower again, skirting his fingertips along the hem of her shirt. Both hands slip underneath the fabric to hold her hips, palms warm and tempting against her skin. Her fingers curl instinctively into the fabric of his shirt at his sides in return. “And you may think I haven’t noticed the way you have been carefully rocking your hips for the better part of the evening, but I have. It’s a dead give-away.” Then he encourages an almost achingly perfect roll of her hips against him, and she can’t stop the throaty moan that escapes from low in her chest at the illicit movement. 

“Okay, you might be right,” she admits breathily, pulling him impossibly closer. They’re in a public place and doing this here in the open is a seriously stupid idea on so many levels. But as smart as she is - as they both are - she wants more of him. 

“Of course I’m right. I _know you_ Carter. And I know that you came here wearing this sweet pair of jeans because you wanted to get me worked up for you - again,” he stares down at her darkly, arousal clear in his eyes. Her whole body is arching against him, practically begging for more. He breaks their gaze to pepper tantalizing barely-there kisses along her jawline, her eyes fall closed with a sigh at the sensation, until his lips are hovering over hers. “But the truth is you don’t need to be wearing anything in particular to get me going Sam. You’re more than enough. And you will always be for me,” he finishes softly.

God - this man. This wonderfully sexy, perfectly charming man - made up of equal parts difficult and rough, with a dose sweet and soft added for good measure. She wants to go home with him. Bed him. Learn him. Taste him. Love him. He is everything she wants and still everything she can’t have. The errant thought is sobering and overwhelming. It catches her off guard and suddenly she just wants to cry at the unfairness of it all.

“I need you,” her whispered words do not come out wantonly as she would have expected in this kind of moment. Instead they sound sad, dejected and pained. There’s an ache in the middle of her chest that spreads out, reaching as far as her fingertips. She wants the butterflies back, filling her senses with a foolish lightness instead of this ache.

But it’s obvious to her now that the _waiting_ , is slowly starting to take its toll on her. And if she’s honest, she’s not sure how much she has left to give - or give up. 

He must catch the shift in her mood because he pulls back instantly, concern filling his eyes at her changed tone. “Hey…” Cupping her face in his hands, he searches her eyes as he gently thumbs over the curve of her cheek and traces over her un-kissed lips. “I need you too.”

I love you. 

I love you too. 

Even in a stolen moment there are still words they won’t allow themselves to say. 

It leaves a telling sting behind her eyes and a lump forming heavily in her throat. What was she thinking? Coming here, precariously toying with their feelings like it’s a game. _It’s not a game._ It’s them and it’s real and it’s something they can’t have.

“You know,” he starts quietly, pressing his lips to her forehead, “…when the time is right, all you need to do is say ‘when’. I promise, no matter what, I’ll be there.”

Another promise for another time - they are getting good at those. Sometimes she can’t tell if they are brave or cowards when it comes to _this_.

Blinking back the tears she absolutely will not shed, she nods slowly, considering his words carefully. Desperate to quash her anguish before it overwhelms her completely, she decides she knows exactly what it is she wants tonight. 

“Hold me.” His head tilts to the side, his expression still filled with a concern that hasn’t yet left. “I still get a prize for winning right? That’s what I want,” she clarifies softly. “Just hold me.”

And he does. 

Gathering her up in his arms. Pulling her close. Surrounding her with all of him. Ducking his face into the curve of her neck as she presses hers against his cotton covered shoulder. Providing her comfort in a way she needs right now. Maybe in a way she actually needed all night. 

Somehow her evening of planned temptation ends here; with him holding her in a parking lot, while she tries not to cry at the thought of having to keep waiting for another time. 

One that’s right. But not right now.   


 


End file.
